


not your fault

by Anna_Blossom



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Comfort/Angst, Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Forgiveness, Friendship, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Male-Female Friendship, puppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 22:57:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10626900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anna_Blossom/pseuds/Anna_Blossom
Summary: “You hate me.”She stopped, turning around to see Hanzo staring at her.“What?”“You hate me,” he repeated listlessly. “For what I did to Genji.”The corners of her mouth tugged down. “I don’t—”“Do not lie,” he interrupted, eyes closed, voice tired. A man holding the weight of the world on his shoulders. “You hide it well, but I know you do.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> ~~the working title was "mercy hates handsoap"~~

Angela jolted awake as Lena’s cheery voice carried over the transport, announcing their arrival. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, still feeling drowsy.

Low laughter from beside her, and she turned to see Fareeha, eyes glinting in amusement. She felt the tips of her ears go red.

“Sleep well?”

“Hardly,” Angela replied, sighing. “I can’t wait to collapse on my own bed. Well, after the debriefing of course.”

Fareeha smiled at her, clasping her shoulder. “Don’t worry about the debrief. I’ll handle it.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“But I’m going to anyway,” Fareeha insisted, a soft look on her face.

Angela sighed, gave her a grateful smile, knowing better than to argue against her when she was like this. “Thank you.”

 “Just make sure you actually go get some rest, yes?” Fareeha briefly glances to where Junkrat and Roadhog, as they preferred to be called, were seated together, chatting animatedly. Or rather, Junkrat chattered while Roadhog occasionally nodded along. “I’m sure it was very tiring trying to keep up with that junker boy.”

Angela laughed softly, not at all disagreeing with her statement.

_“Alright, luvs! We’re all clear to leave the transport! Hope you enjoyed the flight!”_

\--

She knew she promised Fareeha she’d get some rest, but she heard from Hana that Genji’s arm got ‘mangled’ during a mission. She sighed to herself. No matter how many times she told Genji to call her whenever he needed something, especially if it concerned his physical wellbeing, he seldom ever did.

She strode to the infirmary and opened the door, a sermon ready on her lips when she stopped.

“Ah. Good afternoon, Angela!” Genji greeted enthusiastically, and Angela nodded in reply, but she was more interested in the person sitting next to him.

Black hair tied into a high ponytail, traditional Japanese garment, a sharp face and sharper eyes, but what really caught her eye was the blue dragon coiled around his arm, leaving no doubt that he was the one and only Hanzo Shimada. _Brother killer._

\--

Genji pulled her aside a short while after he saw her face when he introduced Hanzo to her.

“Why?”

“He’s my brother,” was Genji’s response, and the way he stated it, like it was so obvious why, made Angela confused and frustrated.

“He _killed_ you,” she hissed.

 “He has changed, Angela,” he said, voice soft. He took one of her hands and held it in his. “Please,” he murmured, thumbing rubbing the back of her hand, “just give him a chance. It would mean a lot of you did.”

She closed her eyes, stifling a frustrated sigh. Near death. That was how Genji was brought to her and her team. Near death. Broken and beyond recovery. Almost. It took them a week to stabilize Genji. A month for her to get him approved for cybernetic enhancements, to make sure he did not live the rest of his life lying in a bed, half of his limbs missing and unable to talk, much less eat by himself. Five months before he could talk again, a year before he could walk, two more before he could perfectly function on his own. Half of that time, Genji repeatedly tried to kill himself.

And now, Genji wanted her to _forgive_ the man who did all that to him.

She pressed her lips together, a hand toying with the silver necklace on her neck, one Genji gave her way back when, before letting out a breath and looking at him straight in the eyes. “For you,” she said. “I will be civil, and I won’t say anything, but only because you asked me to.”

Genji’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you, Angela.”

 “I hope you do not regret this.” He let go of her hand, and she huffed out a small breath. “For your sake.”

Genji may have forgiven Hanzo, but that did not mean she had to.

\--

It took her time to wrap her head around the idea that Genji invited his _brother_ to Overwatch. She stayed true to her word, civil and polite whenever she had to interact with the other man, but made no further move to befriend him. This seemed to suit Hanzo fine, seeing as he made no comment on her rather frigid attitude towards him, but Genji didn’t seem to agree. From time to time, Angela caught some of the disappointed glances he sent her way, and whenever she did, she would feel petty for hating him as much as she did.

\--

Hanzo Shimada was many things, Angela noticed after weeks had gone by since he joined.

Prideful, arrogant, reclusive, prone to rubbing people the wrong way.

Despite all that, Angela could see that he was trying, going out of his way to cook enough rice for Hana and Mei, offering his advice on battle strategies and tactics to Winston, meditating with Genji.

But every time Angela saw him, every time she saw the way he wouldn’t look at Genji straight in the face, she couldn’t see past what he did to Genji, his own brother, and while she felt strangely guilty for it, she also felt it was justified.

_Near death_ , she reminded herself as she watched Hanzo correct Mei’s shooting stance, the latter beaming when she landed a critical hit moments later. _Broken and beyond recovery. Almost._

After all, it’s not pettiness as long as she had valid reason to hate him.

\--

“How are you feeling, Shimada-san?”

He turned his head slightly to face her, and Angela saw how deep the bags under his eyes had gotten. “Better than yesterday,” he rasped, voice still weak. He looked surprisingly frail against the slightly elevated infirmary bed, clad in a white hospital gown, hair spilled across the pillows. Bandages covered his right arm, wrapped around from elbow to shoulder, a gauze pad just below his collar bone.

Angela nodded curtly before checking his IV bag.  “Whatever poison that assassin injected you with seems to be wearing off, and your wounds are healing as expected. Physically, you should be fine after resting for another day or two.”

He hummed noncommittally, eyes trained on the ceiling. Angela finished her check up in silence, before making her way towards the exit.

“You hate me.”

She stopped, turning around to see Hanzo staring at her.

“What?”

“You hate me,” he repeated listlessly. “For what I did to Genji.”

The corners of her mouth tugged down. “I don’t—”

“Do not lie,” he interrupted, eyes closed, voice tired. A man holding the weight of the world on his shoulders. “You hide it well, but I know you do.”

Her fingers played with the silver necklace that hung around her neck, unsure of what he was looking for, what he wanted her to say.

“Genji has forgiven you.”

“But you have not,” he opens his eyes, dark eyes gazing at her once more, “have you, doctor?”

Angela thinned her lips, not saying anything. She was the one who saw the full extent of the damage done to Genji’s body. She was the one who saw how broken Genji was, both physically and emotionally. It took her three years to help heal his body, and three more for Zenyatta to help heal his soul. She saw everything, and wondered for years what kind of man it took to do such a thing to their own kin.

Hanzo chuckled quietly, once again leaning back into the mattress and closing his eyes. “You are right to do so. Genji always dealt out forgiveness far too freely.”

“Deals,” she said tersely, and he furrowed his brow. “Deals,” she repeated, “present tense.” Genji was alive and she would not have Hanzo talk about him as if he was a dead man.

Then again, old habits were hard to break.

The wry smile that formed on Hanzo’s face let her know that he was thinking the exact same thing. “I apologize.”

“Not to me,” she said. “To Genji. As far as I’ve heard, you haven’t exactly done that yet.”

A sad look crossed his face, but he kept his silence.

When it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything else, she turned around and walked away, heels clicking against the linoleum floor.

\--

Angela pursed her lips, opening her drawers with more force than necessary. He had gone too far. She gathered her papers, sitting down and prepping herself to work, to distract herself, but she can’t. Her grip around her pen tightened. Too far.

“Angela.”

Her head snapped up, only to relax and look away when she saw it was only Fareeha standing by her door.

“Is there something you need or did Winston send you?”

“Angela.”

She carried on writing, mind only half-focused on the task.

“If it’s about the mission, I’ll go to him first thing in the morni—”

“ _Angela._ ”

She paused at her tone, looked up and immediately wished she hadn’t. Fareeha’s eyes bore into hers, the lines of her face etched in worry. She walked forward, placing a hand on her shoulders, voice going soft.

“What’s wrong?”

Angela looked away, jaw clenching. “He went too far.”

Realization dawned on the other woman’s face, and Fareeha let out a sigh. “That is not—”

“He killed a child, Fareeha.” Her knuckles went white from being clenched so tightly. Arrow through the throat, quick and painless. The boy didn’t even see him coming. “He didn’t even hesitate.”

“Angela,” Fareeha looked at her like a child, naïve and green and that made Angela feel bitter. “That child was going to blow us to kingdom come.”

“He was just a _boy_!” Angela stood up, unable to take it anymore. “Being part of Los Muertos wasn’t his choice! He was a victim! He—”

“—was willing to kill us.” Fareeha squared her shoulders, sounding infuriated. “What was Hanzo to do? Talk to him? The boy was ready to press that detonator, ready to kill himself as long as we died with him!”

Angela wanted to argue, but she was _right_. Every word she said was true. No matter what she wanted to believe in, some people just cannot be saved. Fareeha seemed as if she wanted to say more, but she stopped herself, teeth clicking together. She let out a tired sigh, running a hand through her hair.

“This is not the first time we’ve had to kill children in self-defense, Angela.”

Angela looked away. “No,” she agreed softly, “it’s not.”

That didn’t mean she didn’t begrudge him any less.

\--

She swore under her breath while she examined the unconscious man, her staff a few feet away, broken in two.

“Shimada-san? Shimada-san, can you hear me?”

A low groan, but his eyes didn’t open. She pinched his thigh. He twitched.

_Responsive to pain,_ she noted, carefully checking Hanzo’s head for any injuries. A warm wet spot at the side of his head. She withdrew her hands, one of her palms now slick with blood. _Head trauma._ _Possible concussion._

She checked for any other possible injuries. She lightly ran her fingers down his sides. _No broken ribs_.

She examined his front and back, finding nothing aside from a few scrapes and bruises, a particularly ugly bruise on his left side when he must had been knocked back into a wall because of the blast.

She heard static, wincing when it got too loud, then comm chatter started to come through her earpiece.

_“…erc…Han…come i… repeat! Mercy…gent Hanzo! Do any of you copy?”_

Her hand flew up to her earpiece. “Winston.”

_“Mercy!”_ She couldn’t help the small smile that formed on her face.

“I’m here with Agent Shimada, currently unconscious from the explosion.” She glanced at her staff, grimacing. “They broke my staff.”

A curse on the other end, then Winston cleared his throat. _“Do you know where you are?”_

She looked around. “We’re still inside the building, and the structure shows no signs of collapsing so far.”

_“Alright. I’ve got Genji and Lúcio going in to retrieve you. Stay safe.”_

“Please hurry.”

A noise from behind startled her, and she reached for her pistol, turning around and standing up in one quick motion. A shadow on the wall, and she narrowed her eyes.

“Show yourself.”

She watched as the shadow shakily brought its hands up, and a man, clad in Talon uniform and eyes wide with fear, revealed himself from behind a fallen beam.

“P-please,” he begged, and she instinctively took in his injuries— _burns on the right arm, bleeding nose, deep cut on forehead_. “Don’ shoot, please! Me wife, she’s expectin’ me back home!”

A tinge of pity in her chest, but she did not let her weapon stray away from the man.

“I… oh good Lord, please. Have mercy on me,” the man sobbed. “Have mercy,” he fell to his knees, and that’s when she hesitated, slowly lowering her weapon. The man looked up at her, eyes wide. He got up on shaky knees and smiled at her gratefully, stumbling his way towards her, arms moving towards her in the motion of a hug. “Christ, thank you! Thank yo—”

His mouth frozen in an ‘o’, both he and Angela looked down at his chest in horror. She gasped.

An arrow, piercing right through the middle of his chest.

_Breastbone shattered into sharp pieces, spreading towards the heart, lungs, major blood vessels. Pierced heart. Immediate death._

She watched as the man fell to his knees, still staring at the arrow, before turning his gaze to meet hers. Wide, desperate eyes. He collapsed.

Labored breathing behind her. She turned around slowly and saw Hanzo down on one knee, holding his bow. Their eyes met. Cold, dark eyes. She felt repulsion build in her chest.

 “You,” she whispered, hands balling into fists. “Why did you—”

“He was Talon,” he replied, jaw set. He attempted to stand, and succeeded, although shakily. Any other time, she would’ve been concerned, but right now, she wasn’t.

“He was injured and unarmed!”

“He was one of them.”

She felt her cheeks grow hot with anger. “He was going to surrender!”

“He was going to attack you,” he said, no remorse in his voice whatsoever.

Her fists shook. “You couldn’t have known that!”

“And you couldn’t have known otherwise!” he snapped back, meeting Angela’s glare with his own. He made his way towards the corpse, yanking his arrow out with more force than necessary, and her loathing for him doubled at the sight. It tripled when he knelt down next to the body, roughly turning him and searching.

She seethed, knuckles turning white with how tightly she clenched her fists. “Have you no respect for the dead?!”

He paid her no mind, instead examining the man’s sleeves. His thumb pressed down on his wrist, and a thin blade revealed itself. Angela’s breath caught, eyes focused on the blade, hand going up to her neck. The man could’ve slit her throat, stabbed her heart.

She felt her anger boil down into a pool of shame. Foolish. Naïve. He _saved_ her.

 “I—”

“Angela! Hanzo!”

She held her tongue as Genji and Lúcio rushed towards them.

“Damn, looks like that explosion did a number on you.” Lúcio said as he approached Hanzo, switching from an energizing beat to a more soothing one. “You okay?”

“Nothing serious,” he replied, but his shoulders visibly relaxed. Angela couldn’t stop staring at him. He saved her life. Despite knowing she hated him, he saved her life. She stared at the floor in guilt and shame.

“Angela? Are you alright?”

Genji’s soft voice gently pulled her from her thoughts, and she looked up at him, forcing a smile.

“I’m fine.”

\--

She replayed it in her mind again, trying to remember as many details as possible. The man, kneeling and begging for mercy. Her, willing to give it. The man, moving forward, arms stretched out. An arrow.

Hanzo couldn’t have known the man would kill her. The blade on the man’s wrist proved nothing. But at the same time, he was _right_. She couldn’t have known otherwise either. The only thing she saw was a desperate man begging for help.

_Don’t be stupid. Mercy’s gonna get you killed one day._

Angela grimaced, hearing Jack’s voice echo in her mind. Her eyes drifted over the papers on her desk, before her stomach growled. With a sigh, she stood up and made her way to the kitchens.

Seeing the light filtering through the half-open door, she paused. It was late, and most of the base’s night owls were out on a mission. Soft conversation floated through the air, and she quietly peeked through the doorway.

“—especially when Saito-san visited during the summer.” Genji smiled, faceplate off, scars visible to the world.

Hanzo chuckled from his place in front of the stove, stirring a pot. “I’m surprised you still remember him.”

Genji let out a laugh, warm and tinged with sentimentality. Angela wondered how he could be so open around the one who once left him inches from death. Silence filled the air, the only sounds coming from the soft clink of ladle against the rim of the pot and the electric hum that seemed to be present all around the base.

Angela suddenly felt as if she were intruding on a personal moment, and was just about to leave when she heard another snippet of conversation.

“Here,” Hanzo said, placing a bowl in front of Genj. “How long has it been since you’ve had Watanabe-san’s _niko udon_?” He huffed fondly, sitting down across him with his own bowl. “I actually had to get the recipe from her daughter, did you know? Aiko grew up to be just like her mother, though thankfully not as stubborn.”

Genji stared at the bowl, before looking up and smiling sadly. “I cannot eat this, brother,” he murmured, tone apologetic and that made Angela’s brow furrow because if anyone was to apologize, it shouldn’t be him.

Hanzo blinked, meeting Genji’s eyes for a moment before looking away almost immediately. Angela felt a lick of hatred at that. “Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t consider… Is there a diet you have to follow now or—”

“I cannot eat anymore. Not normally.”

For the briefest of moments, Hanzo flinched. A pained expression crossed his face, guilt and shame as plain as day, before it was hidden away so quickly, Angela almost thought she had imagined it.

“I—” He froze. He looked up, dark eyes boring into her, so sudden she nearly jumped. She was found out. She walked into the room as casually as she could.

“Angela.” Genji gave her a smile. “Here for a midnight snack?”

“Ah, yes.” She glanced at Hanzo, who was now staring at his own bowl. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“Of course not.”

She walked over to the fridge, frowning at the contents. They’ll have to go on another supply run soon. Her stomach growled again, louder than before, and she pinked when Genji chuckled.

“You missed dinner, didn’t you?”

“Not on purpose.” It _was_ on purpose. She didn’t want to face Hanzo again so soon after what happened.

“There is some udon left.”

Surprised, Angela turned to Hanzo. Genji did as well, also clearly not expecting him to speak up. Hanzo averted his eyes under their scrutiny.

“It seems I have,” he cleared his throat, “made too much.”

She stared at him. _Genji left near death._ Her eyes flicked over to the bowl in front of Genji, still steaming. _Broken and beyond recovery._ She remembered the expression on Hanzo’s face, a mixture of guilt and shame and regret. _Almost._

She gave him a small smile, and nodded.

\--

Bit by bit, Angela’s frigid attitude towards Hanzo disappeared. They weren’t friends, but it seemed that Hanzo’s gesture was a step in the right direction. Somewhere along the way, Angela stopped referring to him as ‘Agent Shimada’ or ‘Shimada-san’ during missions, and he stopped referring to her as ‘doctor’.

They started acknowledging each other outside of the battlefield, from simple nods when passing each other in the hallways to starting small talk. Restrained, polite, often awkward small talk only started when they happen to be the only people in the room, but it was progress.

Angela watched Hanzo as he and Jesse carried boxes of ammunition down the hallway, the former chattering beside him. She smiled at them as they passed, and was surprised when he gave her a smile in return.

It was progress.

\--

“How are you feeling, Hanzo?”

“Sore,” he answered, lifting his arm when prompted, allowing Angela to inspect the dark bruise along his ribs. “Better.”

“Good.” She gestured for him to cover up. “But please refrain from climbing any cliffs in the near future. I think Mei almost went into cardiac arrest. Jesse too, come to think of it.”

Hanzo grunted noncommittally, mumbling underneath his breath. A brief memory came to her. Genji doing the exact same thing years ago. She suppressed a smile.

“Well,” Angela stood straight, reaching for some small yellow patches, all containing a small amount of the same nanotech found in her staff. “Just put these on the bruise and it should heal in a few days.”

He stood up and accepted them. “Thank you, doc— Angela.”

“You’re welcome.”

He nodded at her, before heading towards the door. Angela went to her desk, about to sit down, when she noticed that Hanzo hadn’t left yet, hand on the doorknob but unmoving. She eyed him questioningly.

“Hanzo?”

He turned around, lips pursed. “I’ve… been meaning to ask you if,” he paused, hesitation clear in his voice, “if you would tell me more about Genji.”

Angela regarded his question carefully, taking in Hanzo’s unsure, almost timid posture. “What about Genji?”

“About,” his eyes flitted away from hers, “about his new… body. The things he can and can no longer do, and what,” he looked down, “what I can do to help him. Please.”

She remembered that night in the kitchen, the guilt that painted his face, the way he drew himself inwards after hearing that Genji can no longer eat normally. Other moments came to mind. The way Hanzo flinched when Genji made a passing comment about missing his green hair. The way his knuckles wrapped tightly around his mug while Hana asked Genji about how having synthetic skin worked. The way Hanzo wouldn’t, or rather _couldn’t_ , look at Genji’s face.

There were more, she was sure. More moments of silent guilt and quiet shame she wasn’t around to witness. More reminders that Hanzo left Genji, his own _brother_ , near death, broken and beyond recovery. Almost.

“Genji was half dead when we found him,” she started, meeting dark eyes when he slowly lifted his head. “He was covered in deep lacerations, and his right arm was gone. His body was shutting down from the blood loss, and most of his skin and some organs, including his tongue, were,” she pressed her lips together, “burned, so to speak.” _By dragons._

Hanzo didn’t say anything. Angela kept talking.

“The cybernetic enhancements made him stronger. He can jump higher and run faster than humanely possible.” Angela paused, pursing her lips. “But he can no longer taste. He cannot digest normal food, and his synthetic skin can only feel muted sensations at best. Most of his skin was replaced, his hair gone, and he has unilateral deafness. He does not need sleep, not in the way we do. His body needs meticulous maintenance to function as it should. And he…” _repeatedly tried to kill himself the first few months_. She shook her head, stopping herself from saying more. It’s not her place to tell him. “He still has nightmares. About that night.”

Hanzo shrank into himself as she talked, one hand gripping his tattooed wrist, but he visibly recoiled at her last words. He swallowed hard. “Genji didn’t… He never…”

Distress lined his face, his jaw working as if he wanted to say something, maybe tell her she’s lying, but all he did was bow his head. He looked… vulnerable. She stared at him. Never in her life had she thought she’d use that word to describe him, but here she was.

Hanzo killed Genji. Maimed him with sword and dragon fire, and for years, she’d wondered for years what kind of man it took to do such a thing to their own kin.

All those years, the word ‘vulnerable’ never crossed her mind.

A long moment passed, before she spoke again. “He can still feel warmth.”

He slowly lifted his head, eyes meeting sympathetic blue.

“He can still feel warmth,” she repeated, “and he can still drink. I guess that’s why he drinks. A lot. Tea, cocoa, coffee— as long as it’s warm, he’ll drink it.” She chuckled. “A good thing I suppose, considering how Torbjörn brews coffee.”

 She got a forced smile at that, and she smiled back.

“Genji still acts recklessly, impulsively,” she continued, voice softer. “He still loves video games, still in love with the color green. And,” she huffed, looking down at her silver necklace, absentmindedly fiddling with the chain, “despite everything that happened, he still loves his brother.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath, and when she looked up, she saw Hanzo frozen in place, conflict and hurt and confusion plain on his face. He opened his mouth only to close it, clenched his jaw, struggling to find words.

After a long moment, he spoke. “I...” he swallowed, shook his head. “Never mind.” He looked at her. “Thank you, doc— Angela. For your time.”

And with that, he left.

She smiled sadly as she watched him go. She’d always thought it was only Genji who was left broken and beyond recovery.

Almost.

\--

For the next three days, she saw neither hide nor hair of Hanzo, and was beginning to think that she misstepped somehow, until she saw him along the cliffside with Genji, Hanzo’s shoulders shaking with emotion as his brother wrapped his arms around him.

Angela left, not wanting to disturb such a private moment.

After dinner that night, Genji went to her and gave her a tight hug.

“ _Arigatou_ ,” he murmured, before pulling away and disappearing down the hall.

\--

Angela looked up from where she was updating the different medical files for each member of Overwatch with Lúcio, a furrow between her brows.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hm?” He removed his headphones, and Angela could hear faint jazz playing through them. “Sorry, what?”

She stayed silent, waiting, but when she heard nothing, shook her head. “Nothing.”

Lúcio shrugged, and they both went back to work.

A few minutes later, she looked up again, certain she heard something. She stood up and told Lúcio she’d be right back as she left the infirmary. The door slid close behind her as she listened carefully. She strained her ears, narrowing her eyes when she heard it again.

She followed the noise down the hall, the sound getting clearer as she walked. It sounded so strangely out of place. In fact, it sounded like… barks?

She turned the corner, and bumped into none other than Hanzo Shimada.

He stared at her in quiet surprise, catching her with one arm before she fell to the ground.

“Ah, Angela.”

“Oh!” She backed away from his half-bare chest, pinking in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Hanzo.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, really. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She smiled apologetically. “It’s just, I’ve been hearing this strange noises.”

He tensed at that, subtly shifting in place. Angela peered at him. He met her gaze head on, but she could see a bead of sweat forming on his brow. Her eyes flicked down, and she finally noticed him hiding his hand behind his back.

“You wouldn’t have to do anything with that, would you?”

“No,” he denied, at the exact same time a small woof echoed throughout the hallway.

They stared at each other, unyielding, Angela with her ‘don’t bullshit me, I deal with Jesse McCree on a daily basis’ look, Hanzo with his ‘I know nothing, and admit nothing’ face. The staring contest went on, neither of them willing to admit defeat, until a series of excited yips broke the silence.

She raised a brow expectantly, and Hanzo let out a breath. Slowly, he showed her exactly what he was hiding behind his back. The noise she made in her throat was one of pure delight, as she laid her eyes on what must be the cutest thing she’d seen since Fareeha’s baby pictures.

“Is that—”

“Yes,” he said as she leaned closer to the black puppy, tiny enough that it fit comfortably in Hanzo’s hand. Granted, Hanzo did have big hands, but still.

The puppy barked in excitement, nuzzling against her hand when she petted it. Angela swore she felt her heart melt. She looked up. “Can I?”

Hanzo nodded, a tiny smile on his face, perhaps amused by her eagerness, but she couldn’t care less. Puppies were blessings to mankind. Dogs, in general, were blessings to mankind. Carefully, she took the puppy from him, laughing when it— she, Angela checked quickly, started wagging her tail and letting out excited yips.

“She’s so friendly,” she giggled when the puppy licked at her face as soon as she brought it close enough to do so. Angela handed her back to Hanzo, whom the puppy greeted with just as much enthusiasm. “Where did you find her?”

“Genji did,” he said, ignoring the way the puppy pawed his front, as if it wanted to climb up. “Last time he went on a supply run. He and Hana asked me to look after her while they bought dog supplies.”

Angela bought her finger closer to the puppy, watching as the little thing bit it playfully. “What’s her name?”

“Hoshi.”

She laughed, scratching her behind the ears. “Star. It suits her.”

“You know Japanese?”

“Some,” she replied. “Genji taught me a few words and phrases, and I did a brief stint at Nagasaki when I was still a student, but—”

“Found them!”

Hana jogged towards them holding a brown paper bag, Genji following after her, carrying even more bags. Hoshi barked at her excitedly, trying to jump off of Hanzo’s grip towards her.

“Hey, Anj!” She greeted, giving her a small wave, before turning to Genji. “I thought you told him to keep Hoshi inside my room.”

“I did.” He turned to his brother expectantly.

Hanzo scowled. “I thought you were exaggerating about how energetic she could get.”

“I _never_ exaggerate.”

“I’m sure,” Hanzo deadpanned. Hoshi barked, as if in agreement, and Genji gasped in mock hurt.

“Alright, hand her over. Clearly, you’re a bad influence.”

“Between the two of us? Really?”

Angela turned away from the bickering brothers to Hana. “Does she have any fleas?”

“Nah,” she replied, holding up the paper bag. “But we got some shampoo just in case. Which,” she dug into the bag, “reminds me.” After a few more moments of groping around, she grinned triumphantly, producing a white collar with a bright yellow star hanging from the front.

She took Hoshi from Hanzo, cutting off his undoubtedly witty remark, and placed the collar around the puppy’s neck. Hana handed Hoshi back to Hanzo, and they all watched as Hoshi pawed at the star curiously, before looking up at them and panting excitedly.

Without further ado, Hana took out her phone and snapped several photos. Angela made a mental note to ask for copies later, and then a thought occurred to her.

“Winston doesn’t know yet, does he?”

The other three fell silent, looking at each other, before Genji let out a weak laugh.

“Emphasis on the ‘yet’, rather than the ‘doesn’t know’,” he said.

“Yeah,” Hana nodded. “I mean, we’re gonna tell him. Eventually.”

Angela shook her head. “Oh well. As long as you tell him, I guess. Also, it’d be best if you kept her away from Jesse.”

“Why?” Hana asked. “Doesn’t seem like the type to hate dogs.”

“Quite the opposite. He adores them.”

Hanzo’s brow furrowed, absentmindedly petting Hoshi. “I don’t see how that is a problem.”

“He’s allergic to pet dander.”

He blinked once, opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Genji cleared his throat, stifling a laugh. “How… unfortunate.”

Hoshi barked, tongue lolling.

“Yes, then you see how this could turn into a problem, especially since Jes—”

A sneeze echoed down the hallway, and they all froze at the sound of spurs.

“Angela! Been lookin’ all over for you.”

As the man himself would put it, speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“Think I’m a-a-achoo,” Jesse wiped his nose with his serape, sniffing, “Think I’m comin’ down with something. I can’t seem to stop sneezin’ and my eyes are gettin’ all watery and—” He froze, red eyes focused on the puppy, before looking up at Hanzo holding her, then back down to the puppy

She barked, tail wagging.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed out, seemingly awestruck.

“Are… you okay?” Hana asked.

“Goddamn if that ain’t the most adorable sight I’ve seen in the past twenty years,” he sniffed, and Angela wasn’t quite sure if it was because of the allergies or the dog. “Could I,” he sneezed again, loud and wet, before wiping his snot off with his serape. Hanzo’s nose curled in disgust. “Could I hold ‘er? Just for a lil’ while?”

“No!” Everyone shouted simultaneously.

Save for Hanzo, who only told Jesse to please stop wiping his nose with his serape.

\--

Several allergy medications later, Angela finally allowed Jesse to play with the puppy. She, along with Genji and Hanzo, watched as Jesse tried, and hilariously failed, to teach Hoshi any tricks. Minutes later, she watched as Hanzo left the room, called in by Athena.

The next day, he and a few others were sent to secure an old Overwatch medical facility. One where Genji’s old records still resided.

\--

_“—tried to kill himself! Again!”_

_“Sir, please understand—”_

_“What I understand, Dr. Ziegler, is that this project of yours is out of control! Constantly charging into battle, trying to tear off his own arm, endangering other agents, and let’s not forget—!”_

_“Project?_ Project?! _”_

_A chair scraped against the floor._

_“With all due respect,_ sir, _Genji Shimada is_ not _a_ project _!”_

_“I don’t care! Just get him under control! We are not wasting billions of tech on some self-destructive twit who can’t even fathom how lucky he is to still be—”_

_Slap._

_“Get out of my office.”_

_“Ziegler, I’m warning you—”_

_“Out.”_

_“… Fine. But if he tries to kill himself again, I am pulling back all funding for this project. Last warning, doctor. Get him. Under. Control.”_

A small beep signaled the end of the recording, and it grew silent once more, the quiet only broken by the sound of waves crashing against the cliffside.

Angela stared at Hanzo’s back as he stood facing the ocean, the wind blowing around them.

“Why?” he rasped out minutes later, not even facing her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“… It wasn’t my place to.”

He laughed at that, the sound hoarse and desperate. “Of course it wasn’t. This was… back when I asked about Genji, you were going to say something, weren’t you? But then…” He shook his head, chuckling. “It’s no wonder you hate me.” She saw his fist tighten around the recorder he held in his hand, knuckles going white. “I deserve it.”

“Hanzo, you—”

“I’m a monster, doctor. Don’t tell me otherwise.”

Angela stepped forward. “Genji forgives you. Despite everything that happened, he _loves_ you.”

 “I don’t deserve it.”

“Deserve what?”

“Any of it. His love, his forgiveness, I do not deserve it.”

“You have it regardless.”

“ _But I don’t deserve it!_ ” He turned all of a sudden, and Angela saw his eyes. Wide angry eyes, stricken with both guilt and grief. “And I was a fool to think otherwise! You of all people should understand! I _killed_ him! And he tried to kill himself because of _me_! Because of what I did to him!” His body trembled as the words poured out of his mouth. “I c-could’ve saved him, but I didn’t! All I did was follow orders. Just blindly followed orders like the fool I am! I don’t deserve… Not after… I can’t— I took everything…”

She rushed to his side, placing a soothing hand on his back. He buried his face against her shoulder, and despite the awkward height difference, Angela let him. Even then, he didn’t allow himself to cry, but his shoulders shook with emotion, his breathing stuttered.

“I d-didn’t even bother looking for his body. Just believed the elders when they told me they incinerated it. Just believed them, like w-when they told me that killing—that killing Genji was the right thing to— And now I, I can’t even look at his face without,” he swallowed, and she felt her shoulder grow wet with escaped tears, the recorder falling from his grip. _“Watashi wa sumu koto o ataishi nai.”_

_Haunted green eyes looking at her from a heavily scarred face, empty laughter echoing around the medbay. “Watashi wa sumu koto o ataishi nai.”_

_I don’t deserve to live._

She froze at his words, her breath caught in her throat, but her shock quickly gave way to anger. She gritted her teeth.

“No.” She grabbed Hanzo by his shoulders, pushing him back so that she could meet his tear-stained eyes. “Don’t you _dare_ say that. Not in front of me, not in front of Genji, not even to _yourself_.”

He momentarily stared at her in shock, before looking down at the floor. “It is the truth.”

“No, it _isn’t_. You want the truth? Look at me, Hanzo! You want the truth? The truth is that _you_ are a self-centered _dummkopf_ stuck in the past!” She glared at him, accent thickening. “You think you could’ve controlled ze whole situation, but you _can’t_. You think you could’ve stopped ze future from happening, but you _can’t_. You think that zis whole thing happened because of you, that all _zis_ is your fault. But guess what?” She stepped closer, getting in his space.

“It is _not your fault_. _You_ didn’t order for Genji’s death. _You_ didn’t want him dead. _You_ were forced to kill him. _You_ were being used. _You_ are _not_ at fault _._ ”

Hanzo’s tears began to fall in earnest, and he chuckled hopelessly. Angela’s chest tightened at how familiar the sound was, remembering haunted green eyes.

“And his attempts to kill himself?” He asked, looking directly into her eyes, voice soft. “Tell me, how is that not my fault?”

She narrowed her eyes.

“Don’t you see? I’m the cause for all his grief, his suffering. I can’t—”

“If you think that ze blame lies solely on your shoulders, then you are an even bigger fool than you think you are,” she spat out, feeling satisfaction at the way he gaped, dumbfounded into silence by her answer. She took a deep breath, calming herself. Stubborn man.

“Look,” Angela continued, “I won’t pretend to understand what you’re going through, but I _know_ that distancing yourself is only going to hurt you.”

“I—”

“Deserve it? Then tell me, does Genji? Does he deserve the pain of getting rejected by his brother once more?”

Hanzo glanced to the side, head bowed down. “He’d be better off if I left.”

“He doesn’t want to be better off. He wants you here, with him.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “He wants his _brother_ back.”

He stared at her, searching for something. Angela didn’t know if he found it, but he closed his eyes, a choked sob escaping his throat, easily going into the hug she pulled him into. She murmured comforting words to him, a hand rubbing his back.

They stayed like that for a long time, until Hanzo’s breathing evened out, his tears having stopped minutes earlier. He pulled away from her embrace, rubbing his eyes.

“I,” he cleared his throat, “Thank you, Angela.”

She laughed, genuine and relieved. “You’re welcome. I take it that means you won’t be leaving any time soon?”

He huffed. “Of course not.”

He glanced towards the ocean once more, a faraway look in his eyes as he once again fell into silence. Slowly, he faced her.

“I have to find Genji.”

She gave him an encouraging smile. “Go.”

\--

She dreamt of dragons that night, emerald and sapphire dancing in the sky above her. One by one they floated down, shrinking as they did, barely a third of their original size once they reached her. They flew around her, nuzzled her cheek as they did, and she heard them speak, the sound of their voice strange and ethereal, growling timbres overlapped with a warm summer storm.

_Arigatou_.

\--

For both breakfast and lunch the next day, neither of the two brothers showed up, but she didn’t worry. That night, Genji knocked on her door and quietly enveloped her in a tight hug before she could even get a word out. There might’ve been tears in his eyes. She didn’t mention them.

\--

“—and then there they were, ‘bout to walk into one of my finest traps yet,” Junkrat spread his arms out as he glanced over his captive audience. Junkrat was many things, and surprisingly, storyteller was one of them.

“Twenty men, every last one of ‘em carryin’ laser pistols that could shoot through Roadie’s gut,” he smacked his stomach for effect, “against lil’ ol’ me. Not much of a fair fight.” He grinned. “For ‘em, anyway.”

Lena ‘ooohhh’ed at that, while Satya raised an unimpressed brow. Angela just shook her head, watching them from the other side of the room.

“So, I waited, my finger on the trigger.” He jumped in front of them, before crouching low, taking out a real trigger from his pouch. “Waited for ‘em suckers to waltz in unawares. One more step, I say to myself. One more teensy-weensy step…”

He leaned forward, and so did his audience.

“And that’s when—”

“ANGELA!”

She turned around just in time to see Genji climbing in through the open window, Hoshi tucked under his arm. She blinked. She considered bringing up that this was the third floor, and that that particular window faced a cliff, and that he was carrying a puppy, but then decided against it. Genji’s done weirder things.

He landed on his feet, placing Hoshi on the floor and quickly closing the window behind him. Hoshi scrambled towards Lena, all floppy ears and excited barks.

“Hoshi!”

In less than a second, Lena blinked off the couch and towards the puppy, picking her off the ground and scratching her head. Hoshi wagged her tail.

Junkrat pouted as his audience left him. “Oi, my story—”

“—did not even contain a single grain of truth,” Satya cut him off, inspecting her nails with disinterest. “As if the Green Foundation would have so little security.”

“That’s because me n’ Roadie timed it, lil’ missy. Most of the bloody guards were home for the holidays!” Junkrat grinned, raising his chin proudly. “Aside from bein’ the best bomber the world’s ever seen, I also happen to be a _brilliant_ tactician,” he said, trilling the ‘r’ in brilliant.

Satya sniffed haughtily, looking away. “As if lobbing grenades like a maniac takes much strategy. I bet you don’t even know how to play chess.”

Junkrat narrowed his eyes, pointing a finger at Satya. “Is that a challenge?”

“It’s only a challenge if one experiences difficulty in winning.”

Lena ‘ooohhh’ed again, having been listening in. Junkrat shot up to his full height.

“Alright, that’s it! Me n’ you, after dinner! I’ll bring the board!”

“You and I,” Satya corrected, “and I accept your challenge.” She stood up, smirking. “Don’t take it too personally if you lose.” Then she looked down at Hoshi, nose scrunching, before turning to Angela. “You may want to consider giving her a bath.” Satya stared at Genji, before gesturing towards him. “And him, I suppose.” With that, she headed for the door.

Angela faced him, and only now realized that he, along with Hoshi, was covered in mud, a few leaves sticking here and there.

“So who you running from?” Lena asked, letting Hoshi down, who immediately ran towards Junkrat and started chewing on his prosthetic leg.

“From traitors,” Genji hissed, looking out the window wildly, before dashing towards the door and locking it. He turned to Angela, grabbing her shoulders. “Angela, you must understand. You _cannot_ allow them to take Hoshi away. They plan to—”

Three sharp knocks on the door, and Genji froze.

“I’ll get it!” Lena chirped cheerfully, blinked towards the door and, ignoring Genji’s cry of ‘Lena, don’t!’, opened it to reveal Hanzo and Zenyatta behind it, the former with a hose slung over his shoulder while the latter held a sponge and shampoo.

“Greetings.” Zenyatta floated into the room. “Ah, there you are, Genji. I thought we’d never find you,” he said, tone all too pleasant. “I was rather shocked when you suddenly took Hoshi and ran.”

Genji took on a defensive stance. “You’ll never take us alive.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes. “It’s just a bath, Genji.”

Genji gasped, and so did Junkrat, taking Hoshi and clutching her to his chest. Angela silently brushed off the dirt that stuck on her shoulders from when Genji held them.

“That’s it? _That’s_ what you’re running from?”

“No, Lena.” Genji narrowed his eyes, inching towards Junkrat and Hoshi. “It’s not _just_ that. Hoshi and I spent the whole morning looking for the perfect mud puddle to play in. And now these traitors,” he hissed, reminding Angela of a bristly cat, “want to wash away all that time and effort.”

Hanzo sighed. “I’m sure you’ll find another puddle. Now come, Hoshi.”

“No!” Junkrat screeched, backing away from him. Hoshi barked in his arms. “She’s perfect just the way she is!”

“She’s tracking mud all over the floor,” Zenyatta pointed out, and true enough, mud splattered over the floor as Hoshi wagged her tail, a few specks landing on the couch and surrounding furniture. They were lucky Satya already left.

“Junkrat, give me the dog.”

“Not on your life!”

“You can’t make us, brother!”

Angela sighed, watching as both sides tensed, waiting for the other to make a move. As long as it doesn’t escalate any further.

“I’m sure we can all reach an agreement if we just—”

“Shut it, filthy omnic!”

Dead silence filled the room in an instant, broken only by the sound of Angela’s hand hitting her forehead. Lena whistled, backing away towards Angela’s corner. “Now he’s done it,” she singsonged quietly.

“I’m sorry,” Genji turned to Junkrat, visor glinting dangerously, “but can you repeat that?”

“Uh, hehe, you see,” Junkrat gulped, holding up one hand as Genji stepped forward menacingly, “that wasn’t what I meant to say, y’know? That wasn’t what I meant to say _at all_. I mean, English is _such_ a complicated language and what I _really_ meant to say was—”

He threw Hoshi towards Genji, screaming as he ran for the door. All would’ve been fine, if Hoshi didn’t land smack on Genji’s face just as he dashed forward. And if Junkrat didn’t slip on a small patch of mud and barreled straight into Hanzo, who normally wouldn’t lose balance from that, but the addition of Genji stumbling into him as well caused all three to fall down into a scrambling heap of mostly prosthetic arms and legs, plus one fluffy puppy.

“Take it back!”

“Hanzo! Save me, mate!”

“Get off me!”

“Genji, please—”

“ _Ryujin no—_ ”

Angela stared at the ceiling, wondering how her life had come to this.

\--

For a few weeks, everything was quiet. Nothing from Talon, Los Muertos, or any other criminal association, international or otherwise. Fareeha called it suspicious, but Angela was just grateful for the peace.

She should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

\--

She buried herself in her work. She updated all agent files, worked on her staff, made sure everyone attended this month’s health check and did medical report after medical report. She even went as far as making Genji go through a full-body check-up, one that took more than two hours, with the excuse of necessity.

Fareeha dropped by to try and get her to go to sleep after a week of nonstop working (and it only took so long because she was on a mission prior to that). Angela reluctantly agreed, only to wake up two hours later, covered in cold sweat.

She didn’t even bother trying to go back to sleep. She just got up, put on her clothes, and left to bury herself in more work.

\--

“Angela.”

She ignored the voice, typing away on her computer. Dr. Hilbert’s new groundbreaking study on nanotechnology can possibly bolster the healing rate of her staff. All she had to do was incorporate his findings with her own research, and maybe—

“Angela.”

She paused, glancing up to see Genji, Fareeha and, surprisingly, Hanzo standing there, staring at her with various degrees of worry.

“Can I help you?”

Genji crossed his arms. “This is an intervention.”

Angela blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve been working nonstop for weeks.” Fareeha stepped forward, laid a hand on her shoulder. “When was the last time you’ve actually had a decent sleep?”

She opened her mouth, but Hanzo beat her to the punch. “We are going out.”

“Out?”

“Yes,” Genji said as Fareeha pulled her off her chair, leading her out of the room.

“But my work—”

“—can wait, I’m sure!” Genji said, and the door closed behind them with a quiet thump.

\--

It turned out that ‘we’ didn’t mean just the four of them, but the whole of Overwatch who happened to be at the Watchpoint.

Angela watched from her seat atop a rock as Zenyatta and Genji wrecked Jesse and Hana in a game of beach volleyball. She chuckled as she listened to them argue, something about making Genji’s ability to double jump off-limits.

She shifted her gaze towards the water, where Fareeha and Zarya were having a swimming competition, Mei and Winston watching from the sidelines. Mei caught her gaze and waved at her to join them. Angela smiled and shook her head.

She heard someone walking behind her, turning to see Hanzo, clad in a simple white t-shirt and loose black shorts.

“Not going into the water?”

“Not in these clothes,” she replied. Despite planning a beach day as an intervention, they clearly forgot to retrieve any of her beachwear.

“Ah,” Hanzo sat down next to her. “Then I apologize for Genji’s lack of foresight.”

She laughed. “Sounds as if you’re used to apologizing for him.”

His lips twitched into a wry smile, elbows rested on his knees. “One of the many duties of being an older brother.”

His head turned slightly, eyes fixed on where Genji and the others were playing. Laughter floated from the group as Jesse landed face first in the sand, cussing up a storm as Genji doubled over from laughter.

Hanzo huffed softly, a fond look in his eyes, and Angela realized how far he’d come.

They sat there together for a while, blanketed in comfortable silence as they watched the others enjoy the water. Then Hanzo stood up, offering her a hand.

“Walk with me?”

She looked around, before deciding she wouldn’t be missed, and allowed herself to be pulled up and led away from the others, the sound of their voices fading as they neared the far end of the beach.

“Reaper,” Hanzo started quietly, carefully, gauging her reaction. “You knew him.”

She pursed her lips, but said nothing.

“Genji’s worried, you know.” Of course he was. “We all are. You’ve been acting like this ever since that mission three weeks ago.”

“Acting like what?”

“Acting like you’re trying to wear yourself out,” Hanzo answered, “working until early morning, doing projects you don’t have to, burying yourself in work.” He stopped, turned to face her. “Acting as if there’s something you don’t want to think about, something you don’t want to face.”

She considered laughing it off, tell him she’s fine, but the way he spoke told her he knew exactly what he was talking about. Perhaps because he’d done the same.

She heaved a sigh, fixing her gaze on the sinking sun. “Reaper… was my fault.”

Surprise crossed Hanzo’s face, but he didn’t say anything. And Angela silently thanked him for that.

“After the Swiss Headquarters exploded, my team and I went in to look for survivors. There were so few survivors… and even fewer who survived long enough to get to a hospital, even with our nanotech. But then I found Jack.

“He was nearly gone by the time I found him. Prominent lacerations on his face, severe burns, shrapnel imbedded in most of his side and back— I don’t know whether it was the enhancements or something else that kept him going, but he kept going. I was about to call for backup, get him out as soon as possible, but then he stopped me, told me not to trust anyone. And then he told me… he told me to find Gabriel…”

Angela’s voice wavered, and she closed her eyes as she let out a shaky breath.

“I found him, but it was too late. He knew it was too late. _I_ knew it was too late, but I thought… I thought I could _save_ him. Because that’s what I did. I save people from death. I perform miracles to preserve life. And I thought I could save one more life, perform another miracle.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, head bowed down.

“I was wrong.” Her voice was only a whisper now, disheartened and defeated.

Silence hung heavy in the air, until Hanzo spoke.

“Reaper is Gabriel Reyes.”

She shook her head. “No.” She looked up, gaze fixed on the horizon. “Reaper _was_ Gabriel Reyes… and it’s all because of me.”

Dark eyes observed her quietly, and she felt shame and guilt under the weight of them. Once, she judged Hanzo for killing Genji, and hated him for it, all the while ignoring the extent of her own selfishness.

“Foolish,” Hanzo murmured.

Angela tensed, waiting for him to sneer at her in disgust, for the barbed words. She deserved it, after judging him for what he did, disregarding the fact that what she did was just as terrible, perhaps worse.

“There was something someone said to me once,” he said. She glanced at him, and his lips twitched when their eyes met. “If you think that the blame lies solely on your shoulders, then you are an even bigger fool than you think you are.”

It took a moment before the words register in her mind, but when they did, incredulous laughter was forced out of her, followed by overwhelming relief. A smile formed on his lips, just the slightest bit smug.

“Throwing my own words back at me,” she huffed. “Cheeky.”

“But effective.” He gave her a look, as if to challenge her to say otherwise. Angela huffed once more. His eyes went soft, expression going gentle, like the one he wore that night in the kitchen, reminiscing with Genji. “You will be alright?”

She thought of Fareeha’s worried eyes, gently urging her to get some rest, of Lena’s frequent visits, telling stories to help take Angela’s mind off of Reaper. Lúcio and Bastion making her a mixtape, Winston and Satya offering to help her work on her staff, even Torbjörn leaving a batch of warm cookies with her name written on a sticky note (she later found out almost half of the plate was filched by Junkrat, but was stopped short of taking the whole plate by Roadhog).

She glanced towards the other end of the beach, the others small figures in the distance. She shifted her gaze towards Hanzo, a man she once criticized for his past, standing before her in a gesture of silent support.

Little gestures. Little assurances. _No one blames you._

She smiled, certain and sure. “I will be.”

\--

Angela paced down the hallway, the remnants of a nightmare still engraved at the back of her eyelids. Bone white mask and black smoke encircling her. Her chest tightened, remembering Gabriel’s face just before she turned him into a monster, all because—

_If you think that the blame lies solely on your shoulders, then you are an even bigger fool than you think you are._

No. Not her fault. She inhaled, exhaled. Not her fault.

The mantra cleared her head, and her breathing steadied, made the guilt easier to deal with. Only then did she realize how thirsty she was.

She headed towards the kitchen, slippers softly tapping on the floor. She paused, seeing the rec room’s light on, and peeked in to see Genji and Zenyatta sitting beside each other, the former leaning on the other rather intimately, a movie playing on the large screen before them. Jesse and Hanzo were on the other couch, both fast asleep, a half-empty bowl of popcorn settled on Jesse’s lap.

“Perhaps, given more time,” Genji murmured to Zenyatta, staring at his brother contemplatively, “he’ll learn to stop blaming herself. Both him and Angela.”

“Perhaps,” Zenyatta mused, “but that journey is a long and difficult one.”

Genji laughed, moving his head to face Zenyatta, a tired but peaceful smile resting on his lips. “It is a good thing they won’t be travelling alone then.”

She left them quietly after that, but their conversation echoed in her head, and sleep came easy to her that night.

\--

Angela watched from afar as Genji and Hanzo tried (and failed) to give Hoshi a proper bath. The little puppy had grown now, thrice as big as she was before. She smiled, absentmindedly fiddling with the silver necklace Genji had given her years ago.

It’s strange, how easily the two brothers joke with each other now, when a year ago Hanzo could barely stand to see Genji’s face.

Genji looked up, waved at her. Hanzo saw her and did the same. She offered a smile in return.

That was another strange thing. A year ago, she’d hated Hanzo Shimada, could hardly look at him without being reminded of what he did to Genji. But somewhere along the way, he went from acquaintance to confidant, to someone who understood her, who’d stand by her.

She smiled, watching as Hoshi slipped away from Genji’s grasp, dragging him under the hose instead.

“You look happy.”

Angela turned around, beaming when she saw Fareeha. “Happier now that you’re here.”

Fareeha just laughed. “Careful, Jesse’s rubbing off on you.” She settled down next to Angela. She eyed the two brothers, shaking her head as Hoshi yet again escaped from their grasp.

“I mean it, though.”

“Hm?”

Fareeha turned to face her. “You look happy.”

Angela smiled at her, before shifting her gaze towards the brothers once more. “I’m not the only one.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hanzo gets these little emotional outbursts especially when it comes to his brother. I will fight you on that.
> 
> Also, thanks for reading and hope you liked it :) ~~god im tired~~


End file.
